


The End is the Beginning

by BigSestra



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, Flirting, New Year's Eve, Romance, a few years after Season 5, before Orphan Black: The Next Chapter, brief mentions of Felix, omg first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigSestra/pseuds/BigSestra
Summary: A New Year's Eve ball conjures ghosts of the past and inspires hope for the future.
Relationships: Delphine Cormier/Cosima Niehaus
Comments: 15
Kudos: 43





	The End is the Beginning

“Merde!”

The expletive is sharp over the quiet buzz of Delphine’s cell phone vibrating against the bathroom vanity. She meets her own wide-eyed gaze in the mirror as she checks her upswept hair one last time. For all her effort to keep those golden waves in place, a few strands have escaped and she hurriedly tucks them behind each ear. Her hands drop lower to nervously smooth the already flawless front of her dress before she turns to the side to study her profile as well.

The black gown fits close to Delphine's body, dipping into the small of her back and flowing out again over the gentle curve of her hips. The low v-shaped neckline and the slit in the fabric up her right leg each offer a glimpse of pale skin, enough to draw the eye, but not so much that one would be tempted to stare. Well, Cosima might stare. The thought makes Delphine smile, but that quickly dissolves into another curse when her phone buzzes again.

Cosima drops her phone into her coat pocket and bites back the impulse to release her breath on a frustrated huff. Instead, she lets it out slowly and watches the sigh take form in front of her face like a phantom before disappearing into the night sky. The cold night sky.

“Where is she?” The question hisses from between teeth seemingly seconds from chattering.

It’s the domino chain of darkening windows on the second floor, then down to the first, that keeps the brunette from getting back into the car to wait. She instead remains standing by the back passenger door, rocking subtly back and forth from heel to toe. Her black oxfords are still new enough that she can feel the squeak of stiff leather against her socks with each small movement.

The front door of the townhouse opens, framing Delphine in a column of amber light for a moment before the blonde steps through and pulls the door shut behind her, leaving only the porch lamp to guide her way. There’s not enough light for the clone to see much detail, but even the silhouette of her lover- the way she moves, each familiar line and curve -makes Cosima forget her one job at the moment, until Delphine has nearly reached her side.

“Oh… shit,” the brunette mutters to herself. She opens the door to the limo and, with a silly little bow, sweeps one arm to the side to gesture at the waiting back seat before straightening again and offering a steadying hand. A cheeky “M’lady” never reaches her lips, pushed back and quickly forgotten with the press of Delphine’s mouth against her own.

A soft moan tapers off to a sigh when Delphine pulls away, though she doesn’t go far. Her breath is warm on Cosima’s face when she says, “This is unexpected.” The deft fingers tracing down the lapels of her tuxedo jacket leave no doubt as to what the Frenchwoman is talking about.

“Unexpected, like, in a not bad way?” A flash of amusement in her gaze and a quiet chuckle hint that Cosima chose those words with intention. They harken back to a happy memory for them both, one of a relative few that they share from those chaotic early days.

Delphine hooks one finger into the V of fabric where the underlying vest’s buttons begin and uses it to tug Cosima closer. “Oh, in a very good way. You look… uh, pimpant.” Her thumb rubs back and forth over the top button as her mind searches for the right word in English. “Ah, dapper,” she finally adds, her features brightening with a flirtatious smile. “You look sexy in a tux.”

Cosima grins. “Yeah, well, this one is tailored, made in this century, and doesn’t smell like mothballs”, the clone replies, a wrinkling of her nose accompanying that last point. “I’m taking this look back, making it mine.”

Despite the lightness in Cosima’s tone, she tenses visibly as she speaks and Delphine reaches to take her lover’s hand in her own. She dips her head, bringing their faces so close together that her lips move against her lover’s when she whispers, “You have. Now, let’s go so I can show you off.”

~ ~ ~

With the forgettable dinner over, and those seated with them having deserted the table for the dance floor, Cosima sits close to Delphine and watches dozens of couples move elegantly in time with the live music. In the face of this event, she’d felt self-conscious about her own dancing for the first time in her life. She worried that there would be no place for her gyrating moves and structureless style in this realm of luxury brands and big donors. And then Felix had come to the rescue.

Shifting her focus away from the dancefloor, Cosima takes full advantage of the opportunity to instead watch Delphine without excuse or interruption. Her gown, which had initially looked flat black in the low light outside, had revealed itself as anything but plain when they’d stepped into the ballroom earlier. The silky black fabric is woven through with threads of silver that catch the colorful holiday lights strung up throughout the space and shimmer whenever she moves. Diamonds hang from her ears and, striking as they are, they do nothing to draw Cosima’s eye like the expanse of smooth skin that curves from neck to shoulder beneath them.

Cosima wants to kiss her and, given that they’re at a New Years Eve fundraising ball for the city’s LGBT center, few would raise a brow if she did. But the small orchestra ends the song they’d been playing and the conductor turns to the crowd to announce a waltz, which is what she’s been waiting half the evening for. The clone rises to her feet and offers Delphine her hand. “Dance with me?” she asks with an uncharacteristically shy smile.

“You know how to waltz?” As she asks, Delphine is already standing. She releases Cosima’s hand to instead loop her arm through the crook of the brunette’s elbow, the answer to her question not mattering in the least. She would go stand still in the middle of the moving throng if it meant getting to hold Cosima close.

“Only just recently,” Cosima admits, “And all thanks to Felix.” She chuckles softly. “He’ll have you know that his toes paid the price repeatedly during our lessons so, hopefully, yours don’t tonight.”

As she speaks, the clone leads Delphine onto the dance floor, intentionally close enough to the edge of those already gathered there so she can move them both clear of the action if this whole fancy dance thing turns into an epic failure. Gently unlinking their arms, Cosima turns to face the Frenchwoman and takes Delphine’s right hand in her left. She steps in closer, inhaling unsteadily as she does so, and loops her right arm behind Delphine’s to rest her hand on the back of her shoulder.

Cosima moves closer yet. “You mind if I lead?”

A blonde brow arches upward and Delphine laughs, the sound holding both joy and surprise. “You know I never mind you taking control, ma chérie,” she answers, then briefly catches her lower lip between her teeth.

Heat blooms across Cosima’s face in response to the allusion and she knows that her cheeks are pink above a flirtatious grin that offers a flash of sharp canines. “Touché.”

The opening strains of the waltz snaps Cosima’s attention back to their surroundings, and her fingers tighten around Delphine’s. She takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring, and looks up at her beautiful lover. Their eyes meet and, on the next one-count, the brunette steps forward with her left foot, Delphine taking a step back with her right without hesitation. 

The first few bars of the song pass with Cosima silently counting to three and concentrating on the box step, Felix’s lessons echoing somewhere in the back of her mind all the while. ‘Relax.’ It was the one instruction he had issued more than any other. And when she feels Delphine’s hand slide across her shoulder, and the gentle tug of her fingertips through the fine hair at the base of her neck, Cosima is finally able to relax into the circle of their arms and enjoy the moment.

The clone’s confidence grows and Delphine laughs in delight as Cosima spins them both. Other couples move around them, with them, in the same sequence of steps and turns. Dresses in jewel tones and the colorful lights strung around the room stand out sharply against black and white tuxes, all of it spinning in Cosima’s periphery like a kaleidoscope. And at its center, Delphine.

The heat building in the narrow space between them smells like jasmine and orange blossom, a scent Cosima has come to associate with comfort and warmth. More than that, it is distinctly Delphine and, as the waltz gives way to a slow jazz standard, the clone allows herself to be drawn in by it. By her.

Delphine slips her right hand from Cosima’s grasp and lowers both of her arms to encircle the shorter woman’s waist, as the brunette’s raise to loop around her neck. The sway of Delphine’s body against her almost draws a moan from Cosima, and she dips her chin to press her lips into the curve of her lover’s neck, quieting the sound to a contented hum.

Delphine’s breath is hot against the shell of Cosima’s ear as she whispers, “Je t'aime, mon trésor,” and pulls her closer yet. The clone hides her reddening face against Delphine’s shoulder for a moment before looking up again and finding that their mouths are so close that there’s barely room for a breath between them.

“Babe,” Cosima murmurs, then pauses to brush her lips over Delphine’s in a brief kiss. “Babe, I need to go… uh, cool down.”

Delphine leans in to steal a kiss of her own before moving to Cosima’s side and linking their arms. She presses close to the shorter woman as Cosima leads them to a set of French doors that offer a glow of the city lights beyond through gauzy curtains. The balcony they open to is surprisingly empty, and a nearby marquee displaying a low temperature and the late hour leaves little doubt as to why.

“Another year almost gone,” Delphine says.

“And a new one right on the horizon,” Cosima replies, nodding toward the Toronto skyline.

“Oui, and how should we spend it?”

Cosima tilts her head back and casts her gaze skyward in thought. And in that moment Delphine’s fingers itch to loosen the brunette’s bowtie, to nip her way down her lover’s soft neck, to unbutton the collar of her shirt and kiss the triangle of skin that would reveal. ‘Later,’ she resolves silently, and the shiver that courses through her has nothing to do with the cold.

The clone looks to Delphine just in time to see the shudder and she immediately shrugs out of her jacket and steps forward to wrap it around the Frenchwoman’s shoulders. Grabbing the lapels, she pulls Delphine closer and studies her face for a moment, adoration clear in her eyes.

Cosima smiles. “I think we should put in a solid twelve months of being normal.” When Delphine laughs in response, the clone’s grin widens and she adds, “Seriously!”

“There are no more big trips in our immediate future, and all the crazy bullshit is years behind us now. I’ve finally finished school and found a job.” Cosima pauses to reach inside the jacket and wrap her arms around Delphine’s waist. “So we have all this time to just be… us.”

“A whole twelve months?” Delphine teases. She really can’t be more serious, though, not just about wanting to spend the next year with Cosima, but all the years after as well. The two of them have talked about their future, but never with firm expectations or labels. 

Though they’ve both healed tremendously over the past several years and their trust has grown strong, there are still lines Delphine worries about crossing. As she has so many times before, she wonders if calling Cosima her partner or otherwise suggesting that their relationship is exclusive and permanent would feel too close to ownership to the clone. So when Cosima finally responds with “A whole year at least,” Delphine’s heart soars.

The Frenchwoman inhales deeply and takes a chance. “Maybe this is the year you move into my condo with me then,” she offers softly. “Or, since we both love those old Victorian homes in Trinity-Bellwoods, maybe we could-”

“Marry me.” The words are out of Cosima’s mouth almost the instant she thinks them and, as spontaneous and surprising as they are, she feels no hint of panic or regret. It just feels right, and possibly like the smartest thing she’s ever suggested, until Delphine’s shocked expression registers in her mind.

The blonde stares back at her with eyes wide, her mouth held open around words unsaid. She’s as still as a statue, carved from alabaster and bathed in moonlight. Delphine is beautiful, silent, and she’s scaring Cosima half to death.

“Fuck,” the clone whispers, arms dropping to her sides. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” Her voice is raspy, rough with the tears she somehow keeps from brimming up. “I skipped ahead, way ahead, and-” 

Warm lips on hers steal the rest of Cosima’s words away. She feels one of Delphine’s hands searching for her own. And when the Frenchwoman finds it and guides it to rest against her chest, over her rapidly beating heart, the clone sobs quietly into Delphine’s mouth before pulling away only far enough to rest their foreheads together.

“Look at me.” Delphine’s words come at a whisper that slips into a broken sigh. Cosima isn’t the only one losing the battle to hold back her tears. The brunette follows the gentle command and lifts her face to meet Dephine’s watery gaze.

The blonde frames Cosima’s face with shaking hands. “Yes.” She punctuates the word with little kisses. Her lips follow the tracks of tears now flowing down Cosima’s cheeks, find each corner of her mouth, the tip of her nose. “Yes, I’ll marry you. In this coming year.” A quick peck on the lips. “The year after that.” A deeper kiss. “Anytime you want.”

“Jesus. I didn’t even think to get down on one knee,” Cosima mutters, now feeling a little shocked herself. 

That her headstrong lover would even consider doing so warms Delphine, as she can’t imagine Cosima bowing or kneeling on ceremony for anyone, not even her. “Cosima…”

“I don’t have a ring,” the clone continues, and Delphine has to bite back an incredulous laugh at the genuine worry darkening Cosima’s features.

“But you meant it? When you asked me to marry you?” the Frenchwoman counters. Cosima nods quickly and Delphine offers her a bright smile in return. “That’s the only important part to me. The rest is… what is it you say? Gravy.”

Cosima laughs, catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth in that cute way that Delphine found endearing from the very first time she saw it. “Yeah?” The brunette swallows thickly and swipes a tear off her cheek with the cuff of her shirt sleeve, her grin widening by the second. “Awesome.”

They step into each other then, as seamlessly as if they were dancing again. Delphine’s arms circle Cosima’s waist and pull the smaller woman against her, marveling as she does every time they embrace like this just how perfectly they fit together. Cosima’s arms drape over Delphine’s shoulders, clasp behind her neck and knock her tuxedo jacket to the floor where it lays forgotten.

From the other side of the glass doors comes a muffled countdown, a chorus of voices marking the last handful of seconds of a year almost past. And as Delphine’s and Cosima’s lips meet in a deep and lingering kiss, a cheer goes up for the new year ahead.

**Author's Note:**

> How did Orphan Black evade my attention until now?! I love the show and characters, especially Cosima and Delphine. I often found myself wondering what their lives were like after the show ended and before Orphan Black: The Next Chapter began, so I decided to write this fic to share some of my ideas. I do want to write more and hope that each new fic will be a little better than the last, so suggestions and constructive criticism are welcome. Please don't be shy about reaching out!
> 
> If you haven't listened to the first season of the official continuation of the sestras' story, please do yourself a huge favor and check out Orphan Black: The Next Chapter as soon as possible. I'm practically counting the weeks until the debut of season 2 later this year.


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